Angel
by wildroses-peonies
Summary: Set during Rilla of Ingleside. Conversations between Anne and Shirley bonding about the lost Blythe child, Joyce. Mostly from Anne's perspective. Another one that I wrote long ago for the now-defunct Avonlea Forum.


Shirley sat watching his mother. She was very quiet today. Moving as though  
>she saw a ghost-or were a ghost herself. The warmth, radiance, the fire<br>that usually permeated her eyes, body, and voice was not there. A flimsy  
>glow came and went, but sadness was all that remained.<p>

"Mother, are you thinking about the war?" Shirley asked tentatively.

Anne looked up, startled. The war, which had taken two of her babies, had  
>split the family apart, eventually to take Shirley (although Anne did not<br>know that yet). Who could forget about the war? But, surprisingly, the war  
>was not what she had been thinking of.<p>

"No, Shirley, I was reflecting on if Joyce had lived. I'm glad she didn't  
>live to see the world fall apart and crumble."<p>

Joyce. Joyce, the oldest of the Blythe children-and the one who did not  
>live. The first House of Dreams baby. Joyce, the wee little white angel,<br>wrapped in white, buried in the graveyard.

"You never speak much about Joyce," Shirley said quietly. It was true. All  
>the Blythe children knew they had a sister, Joyce, who had died. They knew<br>every year Mum and Dad placed flowers at her grave. They had even been to  
>the grave. But feel the tradegy, hard as they might (and they sincerely<br>wished she had lived), Joyce had died too long ago for them to realize the  
>significance her death had on their lives.<br>Also, Anne and Gilbert did not Joyce's death to cast a shadow over their  
>children's happy lives.<p>

Anne smiled. "Had Joyce lived she would have been so beautiful, so full of  
>achievement, so full of life. What a blessing her birth was-and she was<br>taken so soon after."

Silence pervaded the kitchen. Susan was outside busily weeding away in the  
>garden, occassionally exclaiming (not realizing she could be overheard)<br>"Kitchener" or "our dear boys" or "those nasty, revolting..." and other  
>snippets. The silence in the kitchen grew heavier and darker. Dr. Blythe was<br>in the Glen checking on patients. Rilla and a sleeping Jims were upstairs.  
>How that baby was growing! Soon, he would a young man. Well-that was years<br>away. Rilla acted as if she didn't-couldn't-love Jims, but it was obvious  
>to everyone that Rilla adored him more and more as the months went by. And<br>that adoration was turning into love.

"I never thought-how hard-it would be-to love a  
>child-anyone-until-this war-came." Shirley wanted to say more, but why<br>struggle on? Was war even comparable to losing a newborn child? At least the  
>people fighting in the war had had a chance to live, to dream, to fulfill<br>some destiny.

"Well, Joyce didn't live and I'm thankful for that." Anne's voice was dark  
>and foreboding, even bitter. Well, she had wanted Joyce to live-but not to<br>live in a world of bloodshed and doom. A thought flashed across her mind:  
>She would rather all her children had never been born than to live in a<br>world like this.

But the thought was too hopeless for Anne to cling to. Even in her darkest  
>moments (and one very black one was to come), she knew that the war would<br>end and that hope was somewhere out on the horizon. Somewhere.

Carefree days like those of her youth would someday bless children again.  
>And the earth would again fill with happiness. But the wounds that the<br>mothers and fathers of these children carried would take many generations to  
>heal.<p>

"I only hope the scars heals in my lifetime."

Shirley, who had been in deep thought, startled at the remark. "I'm sorry  
>mother. I shouldn't have asked you to remember such pain. Especially now,<br>with all this chaos."

"No, Shirley. It's fine. I am no longer able to disguise my sorrow as a  
>smile anyway."<p>

Shirley gave his mother a questioning look. Anne quickly went on.

"Every year, I used to. She died today, so many yesterdays ago. For so many  
>years, for-the rest of you-I've hid what her death has meant to me,<br>because I wanted you to be happy. Now, with the war-I can't bear to think  
>of what might happy to Jem or Walter-and so-when her day comes, and it<br>does come amidst all this horror-I remember-and grieve."

"I know I'll live the life you have, mother. Maybe, I won't see the war  
>either-" Anne and Shirley each gave each other a keen look, both somehow<br>knowing that that statement was a lie-"but I won't forget Joyce-even if I  
>never understand what it's like to lose-" Shirley trailed off into silence.<p>

"I know you understand, Shirley."

A few nights later, Anne was out on the verandah. Silence-filled with magic  
>and fairy folk-pervaded the quiet yard. Anne felt as if she could almost<br>see her children and the Merediths playing, laughing, being joyful and  
>happy, carefree down in Rainbow Valley.<p>

Anne did not have premonitions-and it would be many years before she  
>learned of Walter's Piper-but her unusual reverie left her full of a<br>feeling that happiness would again return to the world.

"Mum," Shirley had crept up behind her. "Mum, I'm glad we talked the other  
>day. I'm sorry if I've been insensitive all these years to her death."<p>

"No-you haven't. You just didn't understand. Besides, you have suffered  
>too."<p>

More than a few moments of deep thinking followed. Mother and son reluctant  
>to break the magical silence that surrounded them. Perhaps, the silence was<br>in some way healing to Anne, for she said, rather softly,

"I told you that if Joyce had lived she would have been beautiful and full  
>of live and achievement. But" Anne paused and gave her science-minded son a<br>small looked "I saw her growu up in the-spirit world-alongside all of  
>us."<p>

Shirley almost gave his mother an incredible look. But suddenly a thought  
>came to him-struck him with such force, he was caught off-guard. And, yet,<br>it seemed somehow right.

"You mean she's been watching over us like a guardian angel."

"Yes," Anne was shocked by the notion-and coming from Shirley, not the  
>romantic Jem or the poetic Walter, or-one of the girls, who with Jims<br>around, were realizing what life was like as mother (even though Rilla was  
>the one raising him, they felt as if they were raising him).<p>

"Yes, she is our guardian angel," Anne said quietly into the night long  
>after Shirley had gone back inside.<p>

When Shirley went off to fight in the Great War, he left a note, only for  
>Anne.<p>

Dearest Mum,

Remember I am being watched over by a guardian angle. Joyce will be with  
>me-keeping me safe-as she is keeping Jem safe. Joyce was with Walter when<br>he passed into the spirit world and now he is watching over all of us too.

I promise you I will return home.

When I remember home, I will think of you and Dad-and all of us-and Joyce.  
>Susan has been like a mother to me. Thank you for allowing her to be that,<br>and for me to be her son..

Shirley

Many years would pass by before Anne showed the letter to anyone else. What  
>a dear life she had had-a loving husband, wonderful children-and a<br>guardian angel that made life so sweet.

Anne realized that even Joyce had lived quite a life in those few precious  
>moments that she had been granted life. And Joyce's spirit had lived<br>on-blessing the Blythes in her own sweet way.


End file.
